the day it stopped raining | midoriya izuku

05 | sprinkling embers

TOKYO
22°C
LIGHT RAIN

When Masuyo woke up with a pounding head, she thought—ah, did I have a bad dream?

And it's not just a dream—it's an alternate reality where she's surrounded by plastic love curtained behind pretty smiles and pretty people. A reality of plastic dolls played by plastic hearts while children enact their happy-endings in a happy story—the kind of make-believes humans would be sick of by the time they turn thirteen.

And by the time they enter their pre-teen angst of finding meanings in simple coincidences and ordinary happenings, they make a bad habit out of the unpopular bunch, only to come to terms with the fact that fate, destiny or chance doesn't exist by the time they turn eighteen. It's like watching a cliché rom-com movie in the middle of the night with your favourite junk food, only to have tears streaming down your face subconsciously when a funny scene occurs, telling the back of your brain that your life still sucks, and you'll never be distracted as long as the voice in your head exists.

That was the kind of dream Masuyo had, and it was also the kind where she woke up crying on her pillow, watching with blurred eyes as raindrops race down her windows.

What a bad—sad, sad—dream. The girl in red didn't know why the first thing she felt in the day was sadness—an unexplainable sadness that no therapist can resolve, even psychologists. An ambiguous yet powerful emotion that only no one but her can understand. Because no one really understands you but you, which then results in a never-ending debate of people expecting you to behave as if you don't.

The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

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Sitting by the windows of Neoma, Masuyo mindlessly ate a cold sandwich full of soggy lettuces and bland chicken, along with a half-empty bottle of coffee at a vacant table in the store. She was secretly glad that no other people are sitting in both tables considering that it was after-school hours. The girl practically wasted the entire day moping in bed—moping about nothing.

Although, it's nice, maybe not too nice—for the vicinity to be tranquil besides the ringing of patrons entering and leaving. The wine bottles and beers clinking as one of the staff stocks up the fridge. Masuyo takes comfort in those, even if she had to eat an unappetizing sandwich.

The weather was drizzling, and the girl hopes it'd stay that way. She entered the store barely dripping of rain which for once, Maki, the full-timer, didn't utter an ounce of annoyance.

Still, by staring at the scenery of the street and her apartment building, she didn't fail to pry away her attention from a car accident that occurred unknowingly to her. By the time she stepped out of the lobby, she saw a streetlight that had fallen over a white family car while the victims she presumed she identified were frantically calling an emergency number. Most probably for the car and their minor injuries. One hero had been there to check on them and left after a few minutes of assurance.

The scene was her only entertainment for the time being, and it made her feel sick thinking as if a post-car accident would replace the doldrums of her eyes.

Masuyo had almost finished her snack when a flash of crackling green lightning appeared outside the store, a figure dashing to a stop right in front of where she was looking.